Chapter Two

October

 

“I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU doing this,” Merrick said as James parked in the car park at Terminal Three. “I know Henry will too.”

“Happy to do it,” James said with a shrug. “That’s a lot of flight time, and there’s no reason for him to have to deal with the train or Tube after a solid day in pressurized air if I can offer to chauffeur. And I recall rather distinctly how much of a walk it is from the gates and baggage to the station.”

“Yes, but he did finally take my advice to ask for the upgrade, so there’s only so much he’s got to moan about this time.”

James smiled, wrapping his arm around Merrick’s shoulders as they headed toward the pickup location in the terminal. “I’ve also still got points to make up with him, so I really don’t mind doing a bit of buttering up.”

Merrick shrugged. “Your points are good with me.”

Inside the arrivals hall, James hung back a bit while Merrick had no trouble spotting Henry, standing a head over just about everyone else in the busy, crowded space, just stepping away from a mobile phone counter.

“Are you still buying bloody SIM cards every time you land?” Merrick teased as he walked up to Henry for a hug.

Henry pouted deeply. “It’s worse than that. I can’t even use my old mobile here anymore. I’ve had to get one of these bloody things now,” he said, taking a keyboard-less smartphone out of his pocket.

“Bloody hell…” Merrick murmured solemnly, shaking his head. “Kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, is it? You’ll hate every minute of it. I’ll be sending you Skype calls and all.”

“Video calls, brilliant,” Henry grumbled. “Fine if you want to catch me starkers just out of a shower.”

“Thanks for the nightmares. You ready to go or need anything else?”

“Nah, I’m ready. Bloody hungry, though. You got any decent tucker in?”

“I did a shop yesterday, yes,” Merrick said, laughing, leading Henry over to the entryway where James was waiting.

“Ya right, James? Nice of you to offer a lift, mate,” Henry said, shaking James’s hand.

“No trouble at all. Welcome back. Mer and I were going to get a bite; you’re welcome to join us, or we can drop you at Merrick’s if you just want to get some kip.”

“If you take me to food and coffee, I’ll love you for-fuckin-ever, mate,” Henry said fervently.

James couldn’t help laughing. “Those airline meals aren’t exactly satisfying; I agree.”

“And if he brought enough snacks in his carry-on, airport security would expect he was running an import operation,” Merrick said with a snicker as they headed out to the car park.

“I know a good place in Richmond, right on the way,” James said. “Pub food, if you’re up for that.”

“That sounds like heaven,” Henry said wistfully.

Merrick helped Henry situate his suitcase and carry-on in the car boot, and James passed Henry a fresh bottle of water, saying, “Here. You’re probably parched as well as starving.”

“Bloody oath!” Henry agreed openly. “Hey, Mezza… He’s all right, this one.”

Merrick just laughed. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve been telling you,” he said, grinning at James.

In less than half an hour, during most of which Henry was half asleep, they were parked along Kew Green and walking over the road to the pub.

“Is it too cold for sitting out front?” Henry asked.

Merrick shook his head. “I’m fine. James?”

James shrugged. “No reason why not. It was pretty chilly yesterday, but decent enough today. Should be good all week, really.”

“That’s ace. Next to food and coffee, open air is all I need,” Henry said in relief.

“Why don’t I get us started with some drinks while you two decide on food?” James said as Merrick and James chose a table in front of the pub. “Tea, Mer?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Merrick responded. “Just a bit of milk.”

“Coffee preferences, Henry?” James asked.

“Flat white?” Henry said. “Or milky coffee, whatever they do here is fine.”

James nodded and went inside while Henry and Merrick settled in.

“Were your flights okay?” Merrick asked, plucking the menu out of the holder on the table.

“Well, you weren’t wrong about asking for the upgrade. That was definitely a lot better. I think I managed around six hours of pretty decent sleep on the overnight with the ear plugs and eye mask. Shoulder’s giving me shit though. I’m gonna have to loosen that up before the races.”

Merrick smirked at Henry. “Yes, I can do your shoulders when we get back. Not sold off the massage table yet, but may do soon. No sense me keeping up the license these days.”

“I wasn’t asking!” Henry insisted.

Merrick laughed. “Yeah, not directly,” he said dryly, then shook his head. “You know if it’s bothering you I’m happy to help.”

“I know you are, but I also know you work with your hands all day. I have actually started getting a bit of therapy for it since one of the team docs ripped me a new arsehole about it, so I’ll just keep up the stuff I’m supposed to be doing for that. No worries.”

“That’ll leave you all right for driving?” Merrick asked. “Don’t forget, you’ve got my perfectly uncomfortable sofa bed to look forward to for a few nights.”

“If it’s killing me tomorrow, I promise I’ll let you know,” Henry said, gratefully accepting the takeaway cup James passed him as he returned to the table.

After devouring his coffee, Henry offered to place their meal orders and went into the pub. Moments later, a jogger in shorts and a track jacket sprinted across the road from the green, calling out, “James? Merrick?”

“Hey!” James called, waving Shawn over.

“Wha’ you lot doing up this way?” Shawn asked, coming up to the table. “Don’ worry, I’m not staying to impose m’self on a romantic pub lunch. Just run out for a short lap before nippin’ down the offy.”

Just then, Henry emerged from the pub with a fresh coffee. He and Shawn locked eyes on each other guardedly.

“Shawn, I’m sure you remember Merrick’s friend, Henry?” James said, hoping the introduction would ease the tension between the two.

“Of course,” Shawn said with a polite smile, offering his hand.

Henry nodded with slightly less of a smile and accepted what might well have been the shortest handshake on record.

“The three of us are planning to get together for Sunday lunch with Theo and Nigel tomorrow,” Merrick mentioned to Shawn. “Why not join us?”

Henry only just kept from staring at Merrick.

“Thank you, Merrick,” Shawn said, “but as it happens, my reason for stopping into the offy precludes me from accepting your invitation on this particular occasion.”

“Anyone I know?” James asked with a smirk.

“Nah, don’t think you’ve met this one,” Shawn said, grinning back widely. “Well, lads, I’m off. Enjoy your afternoon.”

“And you yours,” James said teasingly.

“No doubt of that,” Shawn said, his gaze falling momentarily on Henry before he turned and headed back over to the green with a wave.

“Is he always a dickhead?” Henry asked once Shawn was out of earshot.

“Pretty much,” James laughed.

 

AS SHAWN HEADED back toward home, he took out his mobile. He hadn’t been entirely decided about whether to invite Liam for an overnight, but having declined Merrick’s invitation, he felt bound to at least make the effort to cover up his half-truth. Not that it would be any hardship to have a particularly hot overnight guest, but it would leave him having to catch up on a lot of what he’d intended to work on for the gala that was only a fortnight away.

It was Monday afternoon when James phoned Shawn to ask about the arrangements for the pre-gala scavenger hunt they’d devised to tie in with the archaeology theme of the event.

“Got a couple more places to call in to yet, but it’s just about set,” Shawn assured him.

“Sounds good. I know you were a bit tied up over the weekend, after all,” James said, snickering down the line.

“I weren’t the one tied up,” Shawn said matter-of-factly.

“Of course not. Nige and Theo said to say hello, by the way. You could have brought your ‘friend’ along to lunch, you know.”

“Now that would hardly have been polite,” Shawn said, “leaving poor old Henry the only singleton in the group.”

“You’re very concerned about Henry’s feelings, I know,” James said dryly. “Especially since he was the only singleton either way.”

“I see no reason to invite conflict, James,” Shawn said seriously. “He’s Merrick’s friend. Nigel and Theo have known him for years through Merrick, and you seem fine with him too. It doesn’t offend me to bow out if I happen to bear a grudge yet.”

“You are a model of restraint, Shawn Lasting,” James intoned.

“Like I said, I weren’t the one restrained the other night, mate.”

“Speaking of tied up, have you had your gown alterations done yet?”

“Leave it out,” Shawn groaned. “There’s nothing wrong with my dinner suit, thank you.”

“That’s a pity. Just the other day I was telling Mer about that fancy dress night we held back in…what, 2006?”

“I still can’t bloody believe I got talked into that. One thing’s for damn sure—never again—not for any bloody charity. No amount of makeup in the world will make me pretty, and those sequins were the most irritating thing I’ve ever put on. That yellow were a shit colour on me as well.”

“All true. However, you have got incredible posture and a great arse.”

“What can I say, yoga’s good for me. More to the point, you don’t need to be perving on my arse.”

“Not perving at all, just complimenting. I’m capable of that, unlike some,” James said. “So, Thursday?”

“I’ve got a meeting in Somerset House in the afternoon. Fancy something up around Temple?” Shawn asked.

“How about Daly’s? I don’t think we’ve been in there in years.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll ring ahead and have a table reserved so we’re not shouldered out by barristers,” Shawn said.

Thursday evening found Shawn fairly running down the Strand as the autumnal grey skies opened up just as he was stepping out into the Somerset House courtyard. The gusting wind made his brolly all but useless in keeping him from getting wet, and he hurried into the popular wine bar situated across from the Royal Courts of Justice. He shrugged off his mac and passed it with his umbrella to the well-groomed host, along with a slightly leering grin, before heading back to the booth he’d booked in the side room that was lighter and brighter than the rest of the Victorian dark-wood pub. James was waiting with two glasses of the darkest red wine on offer.

“That looks like a glass of heaven,” Shawn said, settling in.

“Côte de Beaune pinot, 2013 I think it was. Thought you might appreciate it on a day like this. How was your meeting?” James asked.

Shawn just rolled his eyes and said, “You may have heard of my legendary patience with stupid questions, particularly the sort that could have been avoided by just reading the bleeding email that was sent three days in advance of the meeting.”

James snickered. “Oh, I wish I’d been a fly on the wall.”

“I can’t say I don’t relish it just a bit,” Shawn admitted. “Especially when it’s a few pretentious, puffed-up wankers that can do with being taken down a peg or three.”

“Known a few like that,” James muttered. “But, anyway…”

“Yeah, here’s to bugger that,” Shawn said, lifting his glass. “Did you drive, by the way?”

“Nah, Tube,” James said.

“Good, because we need a few more of these before the night’s out,” Shawn insisted. “So what did you have on all day?”

“Finally got some work done on a few pieces that aren’t commissions,” James said. “Nice to work on something just because I want to, but it is difficult to complain about the patronage I suppose.”

“Especially when one is for auction at a gala your best mate is chairing,” Shawn grinned.

“Especially,” James laughed. “Speaking of the gala… I had an idea on my way over here, but I’m not entirely sure. Might be coming on too strong.”

“For the gala?” Shawn asked, wondering what could possibly be coming on strong about that.

“Well, not for the gala, but, well, I mean… So, I was coming up from the Embankment past the Savoy, and I remembered overhearing Merrick and Henry joking about this ‘romantic stay at the Savoy’ stage of relationships. I know they were kidding around, but it kind of gave me the idea, you know? And I was thinking about booking us in overnight for after the gala. Do you think that might be too much though? It’s only been a few months and all…”

“My advice is don’t second guess it. Whatever they were kidding about, you’re obviously at a romantic stage, so why not? You’re already taking him to a posh do, might as well really push the boat out.”

James sighed. “Yeah, I know. Thing is, I want him to know I’m serious, but don’t want him to think I’m being pretentious or trying to ‘buy’ his affection or show off either.”

“Jamie. Do it. You won’t regret it. Just tell him you’re planning a surprise to make the night extra special. Bonus points if you throw in something about him being extra special.”

“I don’t want to get corny, Shawn.”

“It’s not corny if you really mean it,” Shawn pointed out. “And as it happens, I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you fancy anybody the way you fancy him.”

“You’re not wrong,” James said sincerely. “You know, it’s been pretty impossible to avoid thinking about Michael lately with the London Symphony season kicking off and that ‘parting ways’ announcement. I feel bad about it in some ways. He’s an extremely talented musician and he could have been ranked with Davis, Stokowski, Maazel… And he would have been the youngest principal in I don’t know how long. He had it all going for him.”

“None of his downfall was your fault, James. I mean, I know their adverts are plastered on busses, down the Tube, those bloody billboard kiosk things in the middle of the pavement, so of course you’re constantly reminded, but he did it all to himself. True colours, mate… They always show in the end. His problem was that he thought being talented and recognised meant he could, maybe even should, treat everyone else like shit.

“Now, your Merrick—he’s dead opposite to that, i’n’t he? He was telling me one time about how he got into tailoring and that and said he’d started out wanting to do costume design for big West End shows, but once he started apprenticing with a tailor, he realised how nice it was helping everyday folk look their best. He gets it, see? A job well done isn’t about whether you get nominated for Olivier awards. So, yeah, that one is worth getting corny over. All that romance you were missing with Michael? Show it to Merrick. And don’t forget flowers when you pick him up. Or at least matching buttonholes.”

“Buttonhole flowers? Really? It’s not a wedding, Shawn,” James said doubtfully.

“No, it’s only a gala for an LGBT charity, and you’re bringing a very handsome young man as your date. Now, it’s not that I don’t think Merrick can manage to decline any unsolicited invitations, but if the two of you are wearing matching flowers, let’s just say that should make it a bit more obvious that you’re together. Summat like…orange rosebuds,” Shawn said, nodding.

“Since when did you start dispensing romance advice?” James said. “I mean, it is a good idea, but that’s hardly your thing.”

Shawn shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be my ‘thing’ for me to notice how these things work. ‘A man may see how this world goes with no eyes,’ said the Bard of Avon. Now, if we’re done with the agony-aunt portion of the evening, can we order meals?”

James laughed and pushed his menu over to Shawn. “I was decided before you even got here,” he said.

That night, when Shawn returned home, he was quite keen to shed his clothes and burrow in under the duvet. The rain from early in the evening hadn’t let up, and the District Line carriages had seemed chillier than usual. Shawn decided to switch on the heated mattress pad and take a quick hot shower before bedding down.

As he was stepping out of the shower, feeling much refreshed, his phone buzzed with a message. Flipping open the wallet case, Shawn saw the yellow and black mask-like icon pop up on the screen. He was tempted to ignore it but decided to have a look anyway. The message consisted of a dick pic and the words, “haay daddee, hmu 4 mor.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, deleted the message, and blocked the contact. James might have been of the opinion that romance wasn’t his thing, but Shawn genuinely despaired of the new customs of hooking up. Was no one interested in establishing so much as the least bit of chemistry before getting their cock out? Was it really all so basely transactional? Were full sentences and spelling conventions a thing of the past? And to think James was concerned that a romantic overnight with Merrick might be coming on too strong several months into their relationship!

Even his get-together with Liam the weekend before left Shawn feeling blank in some ways. The sex had been good, and it was particularly nice having a bedmate to sleep against and someone to fix breakfast for in the morning, but Liam wasn’t exactly someone he had a great deal in common with. There wasn’t really a question of taking him out for dinner and dancing, and certainly not of inviting him to the gala, mainly because Liam had countered Shawn’s every offer of even buying him a drink at a pub with a suggestion of ‘staying in’ together instead. Was showing a guy a nice time before taking him home to fuck like rabbits really dead in an era of Netflix and chill?

 

HENRY WAS STRETCHED out on a lounge chair on his balcony, enjoying a cool glass of sauvignon blanc and the warm breeze off the ocean, when his mobile lit up and rang on Monday night.

“Rack off, ya bloody device,” Henry grumbled at the phone before reluctantly reaching for it. “Oh,” he said, swiping to answer. “All right, Mezza?”

“Your new mobile is brilliant, Henry. I can’t remember the last time you actually answered when I rang,” Merrick teased.

“Fuck off. I’m usually under a chassis when you ring.”

Henry could hear Merrick snickering down the line. “Of course. Who are you under this time?”

“It’s what, eleven in the morning your time? Don’t tell me you’re bludging on the job just to slag me off.”

“No, actually, I’m on a tea break and ringing to say hello because I’ve unfortunately got used to speaking with you regularly again instead of approximately once a month.”

“Aw, thanks, mate.” Henry grinned.

“Why aren’t you doing something mechanical then? Everything okay?” Merrick asked.

“Yeah, just taking it a little bit easy tonight, for a change. Thought I’d actually use the veranda I bought the damned unit for in the first place. It’s nice out here, fresh breeze, rush of the waves, moonlight reflecting on the ocean…all that romantic, natural stuff. Hey, how was the big do? That was Saturday, wasn’t it?”

“Yep, it was,” Merrick said. “It was pretty…well, really bloody incredible, actually.”

“Yeah? Well, come on, let’s hear about it. Oh, you got any snaps? I wanna see you an’ James all dolled up.”

“I think James should have all the photos in the next day or so. I’ll send the link. But I gotta tell you this part first, because I was seriously sure you put James up to it, but he swore you didn’t. You remember when we having dinner at his and you were teasing me about whether we’d got to the Savoy-weekend stage yet?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, we have now,” Merrick said. “He rang me up on Friday saying he had a surprise in store, and I should bring an overnight bag for Saturday and that he’d pick me up a bit early. And then on Saturday, not only did he get us matching boutonnieres, but instead of driving right out to the do, he drove us up the Strand and turned into the Savoy forecourt. I really thought it was a wind-up and wondered how far he was going to take it. He was absolutely for real though. It was fucking gorgeous, Henry. And then he only went and booked us in for the afternoon tea yesterday as well.”

“Wow. That’s splashing out a bit,” Henry said, impressed.

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t get past the ‘Are you sure? though’. He said he wanted to do something special to make the weekend perfect for us.”

“You did alright with him after all, Mez. Good onya, mate.”

“I’ve never had anything like this, Henry,” Merrick said. “Never would have imagined…”

“I’m glad I was proven wrong, for once,” Henry said sincerely. “And glad you followed your heart, even if it was against all sense and reason. I think he really loves you.”

“I know he does,” Merrick said softly. “Didn’t take this weekend to convince me of it either. Well, look, I can’t chat long, gotta get back to work in a minute. I’ll send you the photos when we’ve got them.”

“Oh, now I get it. You just rang up for a bit of a skite about your dream date. Go on, then, back to work in the real world, sunshine. Tell James I said g’day and to keep giving you the posh treatment because you deserve it.”

“Right,” Merrick laughed. “Talk to you later, yeah?” he said, ringing off.

Henry put his mobile back on the table and poured another glass of wine. He stood and leaned on the balcony rail, feeling the night breeze carding his hair like a tender lover. He would never admit it to anyone else, but if he was honest with himself, he knew he was rather jealous of what Merrick and James had.

There had been a few longer-term relationships in Henry’s life, but none that ultimately panned out. Either the initial attraction wore off or chemistry degraded over time or whoever he was seeing got tired of his on-the-go lifestyle or refusal to be public about the relationship, but never had any break-up been especially painful on an emotional level.

Henry knew that was a sign he’d never really been in love, and as the years went on, it got to be more concerning. He sometimes wondered if he would ever find love, if mid-thirties was officially too old for finding love, or if it was maybe better he didn’t anyway. He knew the odds of him falling for a woman were staggeringly low, and the odds of a coming out being warmly received by the motorsport world not much better.

Henry sighed and polished off the wine, deciding a night-time walk on the beach was in order.